Watch and Learn
by skamusic4
Summary: Julia watches those she left behind, contemplative. JT loves pulling pranks on the living world. Rick usually keeps to himself, but sometimes lashes out. Nobody can see or here them...except each other. Even the Degrassi afterlife is complicated, it seems
1. Chapter 1

_**Watch and Learn-A Degrassi Fanfic**_

**AN: Okay, so the first 3 chapters will be in the POVs of each of the 3 different ghosts, to introduce each one. After that, I'll probably switch between POVs within each chapter. I suppose this would be set before 'All Falls Down.' So...here it is. [:**

Chapter One

-Julia's POV-

I watched in amusement as Eli flirted with the girl—Clare. He would say something quick-witted, and she'd retort with something just as smart, and he'd shoot her one of his trademark smirks.

It was getting late, and he offered to drive her home. She looked like she was about to agree, but then remembered something.

"My sister's in town," she explained somberly. "She said she'd pick me up here when she was done shopping."

"It's fine," Eli said, still smirking. He might make that face a whole lot, but I, for one, never got tired of it.

As if on cue, the doors of the restaurant (the Dot) swung open, and a thin, brunette twenty-something came rushing in.

"Clare!" She exclaimed, and Clare stood immediately to embrace the girl I presumed to be her sister.

"Darcy! It's been _so_ long. Look how tan you've gotten!" I noticed that the other girl's skin was exceptionally dark in comparison to Clare's pale tone.

"I think you got whiter," Darcy said with a grin. "And taller, and curvier, and older, and gosh, Clare, is there anything that you _didn't_ change?"

"Probably not," Clare joked. Her sister glanced behind her, and her grin grew impossibly bigger.

"Oh my, _you_ must be the notorious Eli!" I laughed at the mortified expression that crossed Clare's face when Eli looked at her.

"That would be me. Why, does Clare talk about me a lot?" I laughed again—something that's so easy to do when you're a ghost. Nobody can tell you how stupid you look.

"In every letter!" Clare's face flushed to a shade of red that I thought only _my_ face was capable of attaining.

"Do not," she mumbled.

"You're right—he _is_ cute," Darcy whispered, too quiet for Eli to hear.

"Cute?" I scoffed. "Eli's freaking _gorgeous_." It was okay to sound ridiculous—nobody could hear me anyway.

"Shhh!" Clare hissed, and for a moment, I let myself pretend that she was talking to me. That I was alive, and they could all see me standing here in the middle of them.

"I've got to get going," Eli said, grinning at the sisterly bickering. "I'll call you tomorrow Clare-Bear." She rolled her eyes and gave him a brief hug before he exited.

Rather than follow Eli just yet—since I already knew where he was going—I decided to stay with the sisters for a little bit. I found their Eli-gossiping absolutely hilarious. It reminded me of the way my best girl friend, Alex, and I used to go into total girly-girl mode whenever we discussed boys.

We'd chill in my room—she in my Moonchair and I on my bed—and giggle the way we would never, _ever_ giggle around anybody else. Like we were the stars in a light-hearted chick-flick.

I actually visited Alex a few weeks ago. She doesn't giggle like that to anybody anymore.

I shook my head and stalked out of the Dot. I didn't feel like walking—much less running—so I simply popped over to Morty.

Transporting usually takes a lot of energy, but I wasn't all too tired when I settled into Eli's passenger seat, considering he hadn't driven very far.

He was listening to that hardcore music that he'd found solace in after my death. Well, actually, I'm not sure if that's why he listened to it, but I liked to think it was because of me. It made me feel important.

I could only take so much of the mindless screaming, though, before it began to annoy me. So, I reached forward and changed the channel. I twisted the knob until it fell on the grunge channel that he knew I loved.

On Eli's face sat the expression that he wore every time I dropped hints to my presence—mystified, awestruck, amazed, and if you looked close enough, you could even see that he was a bit unnerved. I rolled my eyes.

"It's just me, Eli." He didn't say anything, but kept my music on for the rest of the ride.

The cemetery was closed when we got there, but that never stopped him before. "Do we have to go here _again_?" I groaned, not that he noticed.

It was sort of silly, how he felt the need to drive all the way out to Ottawa when he wanted to talk to me. I guess he never realized that I was with him all the time.

"Hello Eli," The night guard, Mike, greeted. He wasn't supposed to allow anybody in after closing, but he had a soft spot for Eli. He knew that he only came here every other week, and that it was a long drive. He trusted him.

I was curious one night and followed Mike home. After eavesdropping and shifting through some of his old photos, I discovered that he'd lost his girlfriend when he was seventeen, so I suppose that's why he let Eli in against the rules.

The cemetery was somewhat crowded tonight, but it would appear empty to Eli. I wrapped my hand around his, and the hairs on his arm stood on end. Some of the ghosts here weren't as friendly as me. They probably wouldn't hurt him, but it was always better to travel in pairs at this time of night.

When we got to my grave, I let go of his hand and leaned against my tombstone.

"Julia," he said, staring at a space to my left.

"I'm over here," I muttered.

"Jules." I rolled my eyes.

"You know I hate it when you call me that." He laughed weakly before I finished my sentence.

"You hate that name, don't you?" I giggled; he always seemed to know what I was going to say.

"So, I, um…How are you, where ever you are?" He was always so awkward when he came here.

"Pretty fine, thanks."

"Hah. I just asked a question to a dead person, and the sad thing is, I sort of expected you to answer for a second there."

"I did answer you, Eli. You just didn't hear me. You were much more charismatic when I was alive."

"I just wonder if you're okay, a lot. Well, I mean, I know you're…but…you know what I mean. I wonder if they gave you a handbook or something, like in Betelgeuse."

"You don't get a handbook for life. What makes you think you'll get one for death?"

He didn't say anything more, just stared past me, lost in his own thoughts.

"You know, Eli, you tell everybody you're over me, and yet here you stand, every other week. Clearly, we can't be together. I accepted that a long time ago. I mean, you broke up with me that night anyway. Can't you just make things official with Clare and get on with it? She's a total sweetheart, and if anybody deserves you, it's her. Besides, you know I was never the jealous type."

"You know he can't hear you, right?" I turned to see a young girl with long blonde ringlets and wide brown eyes.

"Yeah, I know," I sighed.

"Then why do you keep trying to talk to him?" She wondered, genuinely confused. I shrugged.

"I don't know. It's just what I do." She thought for a moment, then walked away.

I looked back at Eli, who seemed to be contemplative.

"I wish I knew if you were here, listening to me," he mused. "I'd ask for a sign, but that would be incredibly cliché." I smirked.

"You want a sign? I'll give you a sign." I grinned to myself as I kneeled in front of him and untied his Converse, and then retied them together. He didn't even notice.

Eli turned to leave, and in the process fell straight into my trap, tripping over his knotted laces and landing flat on his face. At first he was confused, but then he looked down at his feet and laughed. It was just the kind of thing that I'd do, after all. That's why I did it.

"Thanks, Julia," he smirked, fixing his laces and getting up. He glanced around, like he was expecting to magically see me.

"Any time," I responded, unbeknownst to him, following him back to Morty.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

-JT's POV-

"Okay, watch carefully," I said to the little boy beside me. "This is going to be _classic_."

"I don't get it," Collin said, confused by my huge grin. "How can you be having fun? You're _dead_." I glanced at him for a second. He had died from cancer a few months ago, but he looked much healthier now. He still had his hospital gown on (it's not like we could just stop at Ghosts R Us and pick up a tee shirt and jeans) and he was still bald from chemo, but you can't be sick when you're dead. You can't really feel anything at all.

"Exactly," I said. "If I was alive, could I do this?" It was timed perfectly. As soon as the jock went to sit down, I yanked the chair away, and he landed right on his butt. Perfect. I laughed with the rest of the class at his startled expression.

"Whaa?" He mumbled, standing back up.

"Take your seat, Owen," the teacher scolded.

"That was mean," Collin said, his brown eyes wide.

"He's a mean kid," I stated. "And it's not like I really hurt him. The way I see it, I'm just speeding up the karma."

"I thought you did it because you thought it would be funny." I shrugged.

"That too."

"How are you so happy? I'm not happy. I want to be alive."

"We all want to be alive, Collin. But we're not. So we should just make the best out of what we are. I mean, think of the good things. We're not in pain. We don't have to deal with drama, like that—" I gestured to a couple fighting in the corner of the room. "—and we can do whatever we want, whenever we want, wherever we want." I'd given this spiel to so many kids so far that it just rolled off the tongue now. I didn't even have to think about it.

"But…we can't grow up. And I can't be with my mommy or daddy anymore." I frowned; it killed me when the little ones mentioned their parents. Literally. Okay, that was a bad pun, but you know what I mean.

"Try not to think about what you can't do," I offered. "It'll drive you crazy."

"What about my grandma? She died when I was a baby. Where is she?" I wondered about stuff like that all the time. I saw ghosts around a lot, but not nearly as many as I should. And I hardly ever saw elderly people. If there was a heaven or something, how come I didn't get to go? I was a decent kid, I think.

"She could be anywhere," I answered. He thought for a few minutes, and I waited patiently. The first few months, even years for some ghosts, could be really hard and confusing. Well, honestly, it was always confusing, but the beginning is always extra difficult.

"How come you came to me? Is this your job?" Collin asked. I was waiting for him to ask that; they always did at some point.

"I guess I come to you guys because I want to show you that just because you're a ghost, doesn't mean you have to be sad or evil or angry. I'm not an expert, but I've had a few years to get my bearings. Plus, I love kids." And I did; it reminded me of when I was PJ J.T. If I'd ever gone to university, I probably would have done something kid-related.

"Do you help kids all the time?"

"Not _all_ the time. But I have done it plenty of times."

"What do you do when you're not?" I smiled.

"This," I said, peeling some gum off the underside of a desk and sticking it in the jock's hair. I chuckled. It was so easy to amuse myself. "Or sometimes I watch my old friends. Oh, and I saved a cat once." Collin's eyes lit.

"I had a cat!"

"Really? What was its name?"

"Carpet!" I blinked, then burst out laughing, unable to restrain myself.

"How did Carpet get its name?" I asked once I'd sobered up, my lips still twitching. Collin smiled for the first time since I met him.

"I don't know. My brother named her. I wanted to name her Collin Junior but my mom said that was a boy name."

"But Carpet isn't a name at all!"

"I know!" He laughed, which made my day. Then he seemed to get an idea. "Can I visit my family?"

"Of course you can! You know, I heard that animals can even see us. Maybe Carpet will see you." His eyes grew wide and hopeful.

"That would be awesome!" And then he disappeared. I grinned. When you don't know how to use the transporting ability correctly, you end up popping all over the place. All you really have to do is strongly will to be a place, and then you're there. Unless you don't have enough energy, in which case you need to stop and regroup every couple miles.

With my job done, I didn't really feel like staying at Degrassi any longer. I mean, come on, it's _school_. Before I left the classroom, though, I waltzed up to the front and tugged on the map. It shot up, curling around itself. As the teacher fumbled with trying to tug it back down, I drew a smiley face with its tongue sticking out on the blackboard. Feeling accomplished, I walked through the closed door and sauntered down the hallway.

_What to do?_ I asked myself. I thought for a few minutes, and then decided on visiting Toby at college. It took a few pops to get there, considering he was several miles away. I was panting by the time I got to class.

He was staring at the professor, deeply engaged, scribbling notes onto a cluttered piece of loose-leaf without even looking down.

"You have become a zombie, my friend," I told him. But seriously, his eyes were glazed over, and I wouldn't be surprised if he started drooling. And he looked like this every time I saw him.

I was about to leave, when class was dismissed, and Toby shoved his things into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. I followed him out to the courtyard, where he scanned the crowd.

"Toby!" A girl called. We both spun around at the same time. The girl standing there had long dark hair, pulled back by tie-dye scarf. She was short and thin, and had big green eyes rimmed in dark lashes.

"Not bad," I commented, shrugging.

"You must be Jess," Toby said. She straightened her posture, trying to look professional, and stuck out her hand.

"Jessica Raymond, parapsychology major," she announced, rolling her shoulders back. Toby shook it, smiling. I cocked my head to the side; that word was just too big for someone who never even graduated.

"Toby Isaacs," he said.

"I'm so glad a found you! And the fact that you're willing to help? Wonderful!" _Help with what?_ I wondered.

"It's no problem. Do you have all of your equipment?" She nodded and held up a black leather duffle bag.

"I probably won't need it today; I just want to see if he's here. We'll do some warm up exercises for now, and see where it goes. My report isn't due for two weeks and four days, so if we come up short we can try again another time." She glanced at him sheepishly. "That is, if it's okay with you."

"I'm happy to help," he responded. I was still deeply confused, and decided to follow them as they headed for Toby's dorm. He was helping her with something college related, that was my guess. What did para….whatever she said mean? Huh. I guess I'd find out soon enough.

It took me a little longer than them to get to his dorm, considering I was still tired from the pop over and didn't feel like transporting there and expending even more energy.

When I got there, they had already started setting up…something. There were a bunch of those little wood squares with letters on them—from that game Scrabble—scattered around the ground, and the girl—Jessica—was fidgeting with something in the corner of the room, kneeling on Toby's top bunk, while he stuffed some papers into a folder.

"Should we get started?" He asked once he'd put the folder into a drawer.

"Sure. The sooner the better." She hopped down and sat on the bottom bunk, and Toby just stood there awkwardly.

"You can start at any time," Jessica prompted.

"Um…okay. JT Yorke…" My eyes widened at the sound of my name. So was _that_ what this was all about? They were going to try to contact me?

"Uh, if you're hear right now, listening, this is Jessica." He gestured to her.

"Nice to meet you," I said sarcastically.

"She's a parapsychology major, which means she's studying the paranormal. You know, ghosts and stuff. And if you can hear me, that means you, huh?"

"Ghost is an ugly word. I'd rather you think of me as a….non-living entity. Yeah, let's go with that."

"Anyway, she's doing a report that has to do with child and adolescent ghosts—why innocent kids become ghosts, whether they can leave their place of death, stuff like that. I offered to help her, because sometimes I feel like you might just be around, watching me. So, if you're here, could you let us know somehow?"

I chuckled. "Of course, Toby." I pulled the straw out of a McDonalds cup that was sitting on his dresser and ripped off the corner of a sheet of paper that was sitting next to it. I glanced at Toby and Jessica, who both had eyes opened so wide that it looked painful. I crumpled up the paper, stuck it in the end of the straw, aimed, and fired.

It hit Toby right in the middle of the forehead. I laughed at their befuddled expressions.

"That's him, all right," Toby croaked out.

"JT," said Jessica.

"Yes?"

"If there's anything you'd like to say, feel free to spell it out." She pointed to the scattered game pieces. I rolled my eyes, picked up an 'F', and held it in front of their faces, trying to freak them up. They leaned in closer…and I chucked it lightly at Toby's head. I laughed again; this was actually quite fun!

They were still reveling over what had just happened, trying to figure out what 'F' stood for—nothing, really—as I arranged the letters to spell 'HAHA'. They glanced down, and if you looked close enough, you could see traces of a smile approaching Toby's expression.

"I'm going to jet," I announced, deciding to leave it on that note. "I might come back tomorrow, if I'm feeling generous. Just, if you want to take pictures, make sure you get me from my good side."

And with that, I popped away with no specific destination in mind. Just the way I liked it.

**AN: Okay, just a few things: I'm pretty sure you can't major in parapsychology (you can just take classes on it and all) but…oh well. In my brain you can. Also, some of you mentioned Liberty—she might come up in a later chapter. (; Rick is next, and I will warn you in advance that it'll probably be a rather angsty chapter. But you probably could have guessed that…**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**AN: So, I have a few things to apologize for. One, is that it's taken me a lifetime to update, and the other is that this is probably the shortest chapter I will ever publish on Fanfiction. You guys know the whole school spiel, but I **_**am**_** sorry. The next chapter will be longer, I promise! **

-Rick's POV-

Look at them all. They laugh and hug, get jobs and get married. None of them even remember. None of them care. And the new ones, they're even worse. They giggle and make out in the very hallway that my heart stopped beating. It's disgusting. I bet none of them even _know_ about me.

I thought I'd at least leave by some type of legacy. Not even that; I hoped I'd at least haunt people's thoughts whenever they heard my name. But no. They just brush it under the rug, forget about it, and move on with their lives.

I felt a little bad when I found out that it wasn't Jimmy who arranged everything. That he actually _was_ innocent, actually _was_ trying to be a friend to me. But I was more angry than upset. Those Neanderthals that call themselves people just let him get paralyzed, and weren't even human enough to own up.

What's worse, is that a few years later, nobody even thought about me. Ever. Sometimes they were sad about Jimmy, but he didn't even die. I wasn't a person anymore. I wasn't a confused kid who got the short end of the stick; I was a psycho who paralyzed Jimmy before shooting myself.

Well, that's not entirely true. It was really Sean that shot me. But I would have gotten to it eventually anyway. The only bad thing that came of it, was that I never got a chance to shoot Emma.

I might have regretted it, but I really wanted to at the time. She'd lead me on, allowed my feelings for her to flourish, and then discarded me like a used tissue. I was nothing. And still, to this day, after everything…it's still the same. I'm still nothing. Nothing but a presence, a soul floating among the living with no will to exist.

The worst was when Spinner and Emma got married. Did they not realize that the two of them—and Jay—were solely responsible for my death? Could their tiny, naïve minds even remember that far back?

People actually _like_ Spinner now. They think he's a _cool guy_. The younger ones even—dare I say it?—look up to him. Like hooking up with a Christian girl and being in a film were enough to erase what he'd done.

I wish I could tell the younger ones what he did to me. Would they still look up to him then? Lord, I hope not. If so, this generation is even farther gone than I thought.

I came so close to killing Jay and Emma, too. When I nudged the sandwich maker. It appeared to be an accident, one to be blamed on Emma herself, but I was the one who set it in motion. It didn't take much at all.

But they'd gotten out. Spinner was angry, but he got over it. And shortly after, he and Emma got together. Disgusting excuses for humans.

I wanted to puke at the sight of them. If ghosts could vomit, I'd be doing it all the time. They were just so unfathomably obscene. They had no shame.

I stared across the room, at Spinner and Emma cuddled up on his couch, watching a horror movie. _Horror?_ I thought evilly. _I'll show you horror_. I reached for the knife sitting on the counter, but it slipped right through my grip. I grabbed again desperately, but my hand just wouldn't grasp it.

I was used to this, though. When you're mad, or planning on doing something bad, you can't pick things up. If you try really hard, sometimes you can push or nudge, but usually you're nothing but air.

Of course, some ghosts were skilled and evil enough to side-step this, but unfortunately I hadn't attained that yet. _Yet_.

If I ever am able to break through this…curse…I'll wreak havoc on the living world of Degrassi. They all deserve to pay, to know that I'm still here. That even though I'm a ghost now, I can still give them what they deserve.

When people hear my name, they shouldn't think, psycho. They should think powerful. Superior. They should tremble in the wake of my vengeance…

But for now I could do was wait. And watch.

I'll always be watching.

**AN: Creepy, I know. But that's Rick for you. His point of view is the hardest, because he's so tortured and I'm not used to writing like this. Again, sorry for the delay and shortness, but I'll update ASAP.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

-Julia's POV-

**AN: HOMECOMING TONIGHT WHOOOO! Sorry a little excited. :D Enjoy chapter 4. **

You know what's funny? Watching ghost documentaries whilst you are, in fact, a ghost. You know what's even funnier? Watching Eli and Clare watch said documentaries.

The ignorant TV person went on about studies and contact and a bunch of incorrect things that made me laugh. Clare told Eli, very dignified, that she didn't believe in ghosts. And then she looked around warily and shivered. Eli smirked (as usual) but didn't really comment on the subject.

"I know you're trying not to think about me," I sighed.

Eventually, I started to get bored, so I decided to mess with them a little bit.

I started with the lights, the simplest trick in the book. I flicked the switch down, and then back up. Eli glanced around. "Hmm. Looks like the wind's picking up. Hopefully the power doesn't go out," he mused. As soon as he finished, I flicked them off again. Then on, then off, then on. I flickered the lights rapidly, the way my mom always told me not too.

"Eli?" Clare wondered.

"Yeah?" I think he knew it was me the whole time by the tone of his voice.

"What the heck is going on?" I left the lights on for a second to see him shrug. Before I could screw up his lighting, I waltzed over to the sink and twisted the hot water knob.

"That's weird," he muttered impassively, getting up to turn it off. As soon as he did, I turned it back on.

"Stop it," he hissed under his breath, too quiet for Clare to hear. I'm not sure if he was talking to me or the sink, but I decided on the sink and sauntered up to his room.

I shuffled around in his desk for some time until I found my old Pearl Jam CD at the very bottom. I slipped it into his stereo and switched it to three: "Alive". I thought Eli would get a kick out of that. Then I held my finger down on the volume up button until it reached maximum volume, practically shaking the whole house. I popped into the living room to see an awestruck Clare and an annoyed Eli.

"Wait here," he told her, sprinting up the stairs. I figured he'd try to lecture me or something, so I decided to just chill in the living room. A few seconds later, the music shut off, but Eli didn't come down quite yet.

But then his phone started to ring. I glanced at the caller ID and didn't recognize the number. Clare peered over at the phone curiously, glanced at the stairs, and then flipped it open.

"Hello?" She asked into the phone. I pressed my ear against it to hear the conversation.

"This is Mike Chapmen, Ottawa police. Can I speak with Eli?" Clare's forehead creased, and my eyes widened. It was Mike, the night guard at the cemetery.

"Um, this is his mother," she lied horribly, probably trying to cover for Eli. "What did he do?"

"Oh, nothing bad really. I just wanted to tell him to stop coming to the cemetery after hours, because there's been some trouble lately and I wouldn't want him involved."

"He goes to the cemetery after hours?" Clare blurted in spite of herself, and I did a face palm.

"Only every other week. But I suggest that he comes earlier in the day when he visits Julia so that he doesn't get hurt. There's rumors about gangs, and we're putting out more security." I guess Mike didn't realize, as he blabbed on, that he was ruining _everything_.

"Uh, okay, I'll let him know. Thanks. Bye." She snapped the phone shut, and just stared at it for some time. I wasn't sure what, exactly, she was thinking…but it couldn't be good.

"You're overreacting," she whispered to herself. But then she threw on her jacket and started packing up her purse. She was almost out the door when Eli came back down the stairs.

"Hey, where you going?" He wondered.

"I, uh, don't feel good," she mumbled, reaching for the handle. He gently grabbed her arm and spun her to face him.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing." I think we all know how well Clare lies. About as well as a dog meows.

"Is it about the weird things tonight? Because I can promise you—"

"It's Julia, isn't it?" I groaned. I should have never done anything; I was only making it worse.

"No!" I shouted. "It's the other dead girlfriend!"

"What? That's insane, Clare." Eli was a much better liar, but Clare saw through it.

"Mike says to stop visiting her after hours. There's a gang, or something." And with that, she slammed the door in his face and started running home.

Eli threw open the door. "Wait, Clare, you can't walk home alone. It's too late!"

"I'm not walking," she called over her shoulder. "I'm running."

He pulled out his keys and hurried to Morty, scrambling to get them into the lock.

"Damn it Julia!" He exclaimed, punching the door.

"Sorry," I mumbled sullenly, watching Clare sprint down the road. Eli still hadn't gotten his keys in the lock, and I had a feeling he wouldn't be able to catch her, so I popped over to her and followed her home. I ruined pretty much everything already, but I wouldn't let her have the same fate as me.

-JT's POV-

I was chilling at the Dot when I saw him.

I don't really like the new look for the Dot, I prefer the way it was back in the day, but I hang out there when I'm bored anyway. It's still the same old Dot. But anyway, I was just chilling there watching Sav and his little sister talk about something or another, when I saw that familiar face.

It was Rick. Yeah, _the_ Rick. Insane, psycho killer Rick. I know I shouldn't think that about him now, since he's dead and all, but heck I'm dead too so it's allowed.

He saw me from across the room right after I saw him. I know he remembered me (I mean, come on, it's _me_) but he disregarded me and went back to whatever he was doing, which looked a lot like sulking.

The sad thing is, after all this time, there was still traces of tar and a single feather in his hair. And there was still that creepy vengeance in his eyes.

I convinced myself that, because we were both ghosts, I should try to talk to him. Being a ghost could get lonely, after all.

"Hey Rick!" I exclaimed. He glanced up at me impassively.

"Hello JT," he said brusquely.

"How you been?"

"I wish they'd just sent me to Hell." I blinked a few times.

"Nice talking to you!" I shuffled out awkwardly, mentally kicking myself for thinking Rick had changed at all.

I guess some ghosts just didn't share the same outlook as me.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**AN: I have to take an electronic baby home this weekend for Child Health and Development and it's really fussy so if there are spelling issues in this chapter blame Carlos! Hah, sorry for the lack of updates, I'm trying to finish up a Maximum Ride fic right now. And isn't this Degrassi season pretty sick so far? (:**

-Ricks POV-

I'd decided that it was time to take an impromptu trip to New York City. That's where she worked. I hadn't seen her in a while.

She was one of the few Degrassi students who'd attended my funeral, surprisingly enough. I wasn't expecting that. But I suppose she's just that good of a person. I still can't believe I'd ever hurt her.

Most people think I'm too cold-hearted to regret anything. But in fact, there are a few things that tug on my consciousness. Abusing Terri McGreggor is one of them. Or should I say, Theresa Matthews. That's what she goes by now, now that she's married.

I watched her as she straightened her office, waiting for the next patient to walk in. She straightened her framed bachelor's degree, which hung on the wall behind her desk. Blew the dust of the pictures sitting on her desk. There was one of her and her husband on their wedding day, one of her in her cap and gown, and one of her and her new puppy, Snickers.

"You've really grown up," I mused, sitting down on the long black couch opposite her desk. "You're one of the few people I know who have." She tugged at the hem of her shirt and glanced at the clock.

She ran a hand through her hair, which now hung in layers, the longest one barely passing her shoulders. She wore a minimal amount of makeup, but still looked beautiful, even under the awkward lighting from the lamp to her left.

Suddenly, the phone in the corner of her desk rang out, taking her by surprise. She glanced at the caller ID, and picked it up eagerly.

"Dr. Theresa Matthews," she answered in a smooth, confident voice. "How can I help you?" She was quiet for a few moments as the person on the other line talked. "It's all right, sweetheart. You still have some time left. Just head down here, and I'll only charge you half price…..Mhm, all right, bye." She hung up and slouched, picking a hair off her shirt.

A few minutes later, a young girl walked in. She was incredibly thin, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. Thin blonde hair fell around her face, and she radiated desolation. She glanced around the office nervously, and forced a smile upon spotting Terri, who beamed genuinely and pulled out her file.

"What's her deal?" I wondered, waltzing over to stand behind Terri. I glanced at the basics of the file.

**Name**: _Meghan James_

**Age**: _15_

**Diagnosis**: _Anorexia Nervosa, Anxiety, Clinical Depression_

**Prescriptions**: _Prozac _

**Notes**: _Meghan was abused and put-down by her boyfriend for several months before finding help, which was a contributing factor to her anorexia. She is very self-conscious about anything personal, especially her weight and diagnosis. She was admitted into the hospital 7/3/10 for treatment when her sister found her passed out on the floor due to lack of nutrients._

My eyes were glued to the first line of notes. Abused and put-down by her boyfriend. Anorexia. My heart sank.

That could have been me. I could have been the antagonist, the leading cause in Terri's report. Thank God she was stronger than that, I just don't know what I'd do if she wasn't.

I studied her as she greeted Meghan, who seemed less than thrilled to be there.

"Hello Meghan. How are you doing?" The girl fiddled with her thumbs and bit her lip.

"Same as always," she muttered.

"I've only seen you once before, Meghan. How is 'always'?" Terri was good at this kind of thing. She was a psychologist, specializing in teens. I wondered if maybe it was me that got her here, and hoped that, in a way, my life wasn't that much of a waste. Meghan glanced up.

"Empty inside. Raw. Tired. Fat." Terri scribbled something down in her notebook, but I wasn't standing behind her anymore. Now I sat next to Meghan, taking her in. She looked like a failed product of plastic surgery, with her eyes drooping and her skin stained a gloomy pale.

"Thank you so much for not listening to me, Terri," I whispered.

"Fat?" Terri inquired. "Have you been eating?" Meghan glared.

"They _make_ me. They stare at me and force me to eat. And if I don't, they hook me up to an IV and pump fat into me."

"Who are 'they'?"

"Everyone. My parents, my sister, the doctors." More scribbling.

"Mhm. So you're still seeing doctor's regularly?"

"I'm here, aren't I? Can we talk about this later?"

"Sure, sure. How about we go back to when this all started. Was there a certain event that triggered everything? A conversation, maybe?" She sucked in a breath, ready to cooperate.

"I don't think anything was actually _triggered_. But I think I'm like this now from an accumulation of things. And then there was Homecoming." Terri's eyebrows rose discreetly beneath her bangs.

"Do you want to tell me about that?"

"Not really," Meghan mumbled. "But I guess I will. So, we were all dancing. You know the kind of dance that a lot of teenagers do? Freak dancing? Grinding?" Terri smiled and nodded. "Well everyone was doing that. And Jack—"

"Your boyfriend at the time?"

"Yeah. We were dancing, and he, you know…did stuff guys do. I mean, I know he's my boyfriend, but he was just being such an ass that night. So I told him I was going to get a water, and he flipped out. He said I was an uptight bitch. I knew he could get like that sometimes, and I didn't want to start anything, so I said I was hungry and wanted a donut. So he said I was fat, and for the first time, I realized that he was right. And I didn't want to be fat anymore….so that's that."

The room was quiet for a minute, the only sound in the room the slashing of Terri's pen on the notepad. She waited until she was done writing to speak.

"Meghan, did you know that I had an abusive boyfriend when I was in high school?" Meghan's eyes widened. I couldn't deal with this. Within seconds, I was back out on the streets of New York City, and I slowly started making my way back to Toronto.

-JT's POV-

I chilled on Toby's bed as he typed on the keyboard furiously. He and Jessica had done some more 'tests' today to see if I was there, but these were more technical and less fun. They took a bunch of pictures, in which I smiled hugely and gave a thumbs up, but would probably show up as a little dot. All my hard work wasted! Then they set up some voice recorders and asked stupid questions like, 'how is the afterlife?' Did they really think my voice would show up?

But they were meeting again in a week, and I hoped they'd do something that I could get more involved with. Like, maybe they'd lay out some chalk or a whiteboard. It's hard for ghosts to write, as we can't make precise motions, but I could probably freak them out by drawing a line or something. How frightening! Or I could just chuck the utensil at Toby's head…that seemed like a more fun idea…

The computer beeped, and I became curious.

"Who are you IMing at this hour? Got a hot date?" I glanced at the screen…

And froze.

She hadn't changed her screen name all these years.

**TobyIsaacs**: Hi

**LibVZ**: _Hey Toby, long time no chat eh?_

**TobyIsaacs**: Yeah, I have something to tell you.

**LibVZ**: _What?_

**TobyIsaacs**: I have this friend who's studying supernatural.

**LibVZ**: _Good to know?_

**TobyIsaacs**: I'm helping her with a report. 

**LibVZ**: _A girl of interest? (:_

**TobyIsaacs**: Umm not particularly…I was wondering if you wanted to come down next week and help us with some of our tests…?

**LibVZ**: _What are you doing said tests on?_

**TobyIsaacs**: Ghosts.

**LibVZ**: _Ooooh spooky. I'll see if I can come down._

**TobyIsaacs**: In particularly, we've been studying this one ghost.

**LibVZ**: A _good one or a bad one?_

**LibVZ**: _You still there?_

**LibVZ**: _Hhhheeeeelllloooo?_

**TobyIsaacs**: We've been contacting JT.

_-LivVZ signed off-_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

**AN: Hey guys, happy almost Halloween! Anyone have any interesting costumes? Hahah just a warning, this chapter is pretty emo. Let me know if I'm out of character with JT or Clare or anyone. :] **

-Julia's POV-

Though I'm a ghost, I'm not quite psychic. However, I had some strange feeling that staying at Eli's would result in being scolded all night, so I hung out at Clare's instead.

She cut through the school parking lot to get to her house, glancing behind her every so often. I could see Morty's headlights in the distance, but Clare could take shortcuts that Eli couldn't, and got to her house much quicker.

But when she got home, nobody was there, and she didn't have a key.

"Great!" She shouted irritably at the locked door. It would be so easy for me to slip inside and unlock it…but she would almost definitely know it was me. I didn't want to make things any worse.

But then Eli's headlights swam over the hill leading to Clare's house. "To Hell with it," I muttered, sliding through the crack under the door. I swiftly unlocked the front door and threw it open, scaring the shit out of Clare.

"What the heck?" She gasped when she realized that nobody was standing opposite of her. She seemed to be contemplating what to do, but gave up as Eli drew nearer and stepped inside, flicked on the lights, and closed the door behind her.

"Hello?" She called tentatively.

"Hey," I mumbled.

"Um…Julia…was that you?"

"It was, actually." She fiddled with her cell phone for a few minutes, probably texting a friend or something.

"If this is you, Julia, can you give me a sign?" She'd been watching too many ghost movies, I could tell.

I promised myself I wouldn't interfere anymore…but she asked, right? I flicked the lights off, and then back on.

She screamed.

On the other side of the door, I knew Eli was standing there, horrified. He pushed the door open, only causing Clare to scream louder.

"Be quiet!" I shouted. As if she heard me, she quickly regained her composure and whirled around to see Eli standing there.

"Did you turn the lights off?" She demanded.

"No… I heard you screaming and came in."

"Oh, it must h-have been a p-power surge."

"You don't sound too convincing," he noted, starting forward, but she held up a hand.

"Eli, if this is going to work…you've got to be over her. Clearly, you're not. And she doesn't seem to be over you, either."

"No!" I bellowed. "You've got it all wrong! I _want_ you to be together!"

"Clare…" Eli began, but she was clearly indignant on the subject. She glanced down at her phone, and then back at Eli.

"I'll see you in English," she said softly.

"You're being unreasonable."

"Goodbye, Eli." He sighed and started out the way he came, glancing back only once before continuing to Morty. Once he was gone, Clare took a deep breath.

"Okay. I won't scream this time. Are you still here, Julia?" I blinked (well, as close as a ghost could come to blinking). She was a smart kid. I hesitated before flicking the lights again.

I studied Clare's face, but it seemed she was done being scared. Or at least, she was done showing it so obviously. Now, the only evidence was the slight trembling of her hands, the sweat beading on her forehead, and the widening of her eyes.

"Come on," I said. "I'm not very scary."

She thought for a minute, and then headed up the stairs. Curious, I followed. Once she was up in her room, she clicked her lamp on and shut the door. Then, she pulled out some paper, and a marker.

"Can you write?" She asked tentatively. Her face was arranged into an awkward expression, like she couldn't believe she was actually trying to talk to a dead person. "I just need to…" She muttered to herself, not finishing the thought.

"I can try," I offered. I waited for her scream as I slowly took the marker. The cap, however, was another story. I couldn't pull it off, as it's hard for even the strongest of ghosts to grip things tightly. In my struggle, I glanced at Clare, who was absolutely terrified, to say in the least.

Her eyes were impossibly wider, like something out of a cartoon. Her whole body was trembling, violet shudders. She didn't scream; it seemed she was beyond that. Her voice was mangled in her throat, unable to produce a sound.

Abruptly, I dropped the marker. What was I doing? I'd already screwed the young relationship up, I didn't want to send the poor girl into cardiac arrest!

"N-no, d-don't stop," she managed, sounding strangled. She pulled her sweater closer around her frame, and her exhale was visible in what I'd made a very cold room. I guess I have that effect on people.

She swiftly popped off the cap of the marker and set it back down. I picked it up even slower this time, trying my hardest not to scare her (and failing, for the record).

"Um…are you happy that I sort of…kind of…broke up with Eli? Sort of?" I struggled to get the marked to go where I wanted it to; ghosts have a big problem with preciseness, especially on small scale.

Somehow I managed do draw an irregular 'N', dropping the marker periodically and taking up most of the paper. I tried to tune out Clare's near-hyperventilating.

"W-w-why?" She stuttered.

I flipped over the paper, and with great concentration, was able to convey the gist of what I needed to say. 'I want u + E ' You know, I had better handwriting when I was alive.

"You…You w-want us t-to be together?" Rather than strain myself again trying to write 'yes', I simply waved the marker up and down. She blinked.

I guess being honest is sometimes the hardest part.

"Damn it," she whispered. Huh, so she _was_ capable of swearing. Then she pinched her arm, hard, and winced at the pain.

"That was counterproductive," I noted.

"I knew I was going crazy," she muttered. "I knew it." She shook her head indignantly.

"You're not crazy!" I exclaimed. "I'm real!" I reached for the marker…but I could no longer pick it up. It might have been because I was totally spent, or maybe it was because I was a little angry, but regardless, I could no longer interact with the living world.

So…maybe I wasn't real after all.

She stared at the paper for a few minutes, probably convincing herself that it was a figment of her imagination, before ripping it to shreds and disposing of the evidence. There were tears welling up in her eyes.

"I should call Eli," she mumbled, but no longer was she talking to me. "No. His actions still stand. Even if I'm insane." Then she glanced down at her phone.

I leaned over her shoulder, just in time to see her closing out of an application:

A voice recorder.

-JT's POV-

I still couldn't believe that Toby was trying to get Liberty to come to one of our 'research sessions'. Even as I met a new ghost (Julian), even as I gave him the spiel, even as I introduced him to another relatively new ghost, there was always the same thought looming in the back of my head: LibVZ signed off.

Did she forget about me completely? Was she blocking me from her mind? Maybe I didn't have as much of an impact on her as I'd thought, maybe she just didn't care. Maybe her IM was acting up, and signed her off on accident. Maybe she fell asleep. Maybe her roommate threw a flaming steak at her computer. I guess I'll never know.

I considered visiting her, wherever she was, but decided against it. It was hard enough to get over her, seeing her now—alive and healthy and grown up—would just make it worse. She was in her twenties now, and I never would be. If she decided to come to Toby's, then so be it, but I wasn't going to go starting something. Not now. Not when Julian needed me anyway.

He was 15 when he died. I usually help out younger deceased kids, but this one was a particularly interesting situation. Julian was murdered, and worse yet, it was a hate crime. The kid, young as he was, was openly gay, and kids at his school didn't take too kindly to that.

"I don't understand," he'd said to me when I first met him. "It's just the way I am. I'm not even, you know, flaming. Why did they kill me?"

I understood, though. I'd seen enough in my short life—and afterlife—to know why things like that happened. Why there was such cruelty, such hate, and such violence in the world: People are scared. These people were scared of difference, but most importantly, scared of gays. It's really quite sad.

But aside from that, when Julian was describing to me what happened, I thought of Rick.

I'm guessing that it's because I just saw him—after all, he and Julian really didn't have anything in common aside from the fact that they were both dead and ridiculed. But regardless, I kept thinking about Rick. Nobody really accepted him back at Degrassi—even I didn't. He was a freak, and everybody hated him. And then, we ostracized Toby for being one of the only people to befriend him. A sick game, that's all it was. One that nobody could win.

So, I thought as I watched Julian talk quietly with 18-year-old Hannah, who'd died of leukemia, Julian and Rick aren't all that different. If Rick hadn't shot himself…well someone else surely might have.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

**AN: Hello everybody! Here's another update, finally. I dedicate this chapter to my new little cousin, born yesterday—12/11/10. (:**

-JT's POV-

I had to wonder what in the world Clare Edwards was doing at Toby's college. She was only a sophomore, so she wasn't on a tour, but even she was, this wasn't the time of year that tours were regularly held. So why was she here?

I never really knew Darcy that well, much less her little sister. However, in my stalking of the Degrassi student body, I at least knew who Clare was. And that she was dating that Goth kid, which is sort of ironic considering she was supposed to be this good little Christian girl. But it wasn't really my place to comment.

Anyway, I watched curiously from Toby's window as she glanced around the campus awkwardly. She twisted a ring on her finger, looking hopelessly confused.

"I'll be back," I mumbled to Toby, popping over to where she was standing. She fiddled with her phone, and ran a hand through her hair. Finally, she seemed to give up, and approached a student tentatively.

"Um, hi," she said quietly. The guy turned to look at her, and raised an eyebrow. "Do you know how I can get to the North Building?" He cocked his head to the side skeptically.

"The _North_ Building? What do you need to go there for?"

"I have a friend there…" He just shrugged.

"All right, suit yourself. It's right behind that building there." He pointed to a building directly in front of them. Clare smiled sheepishly.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Any time." She scurried off, periodically checking her phone.

She was just about to enter the 'North Building', when someone popped up right next to her, scaring the shit out of me. I blinked. People don't just pop up out of thin air…but ghosts do.

The girl had dark hair spilling just over her shoulders, and clear turquoise eyes. She was generally small, and her gaze was serious. And fixed right on me.

"Who are you?" She asked bluntly.

"I'm JT," I said easily, sticking out a hand. "And yourself?"

"Julia," she answered slowly, reaching out for my hand. Hers fell right through because, if you haven't noticed, we're not exactly solid creatures, but it was still a handshake in my book.

"You know her?" I asked, gesturing to Clare, who we were following through the building. Julia shrugged.

"You could say that."

"What's she doing here?"

"I believe she's trying to prove I exist. She found some girl on the internet who goes here, and apparently she's studying the supernatural."

"This wouldn't happen to be Jessica Raymond, would it?" I wondered, having a feeling that it was. I remembered Jess documenting our little experiments on the internet, and I could assume she'd be more than happy to get even more evidence.

"That's it! How did you know?"

"_She's_ trying to prove that _I_ exist, with my old friend." Julia shrugged.

"I don't see why ghosts try to stay so inconspicuous," she said. "In fact, people who lost us will probably feel better if they know we exist after death, right?" I thought about Liberty. Did she feel better, or worse, about me being around? Did she even believe it?

"I guess people are too skeptic," I mused. "And it makes them scared." Julia thought about that for a second.

"How long have you been a ghost?" She wondered.

"About three years. How about you?"

"Only one. Do you just stay here all the time?"

"God, no. That would get so boring. No, I usually help out new kid-ghosts, or hang out at the Dot, or wander around town, or stalk Degrassi."

"Degrassi?"

"Yeah, it's this school I used to—"

"No, I just, Eli goes there. He was my old boyfriend, he's dating her." She went to gesture to Clare, I'm sure, but Clare was already out of sight. Oh well, we'd catch up to her later.

"The emo kid?" Julia made a face, her features contorting in a cross between a smirk and a grimace.

"See, we used to hate when people called us emo. But now, it's sort of accurate for him. So yeah, the emo kid." I grinned.

"All right, understandable." We floated up the stairs as I was thinking, I could really get used to this girl.

-Julia's POV-

The other ghost—JT—and I found Clare knocking tentatively on one of the doors in the dorm. JT was the closest thing to a friend I'd found thus far in the afterlife, and I thought it would be pretty cool if we could stick together. Most of the time other ghosts weren't in the mood to socialize, and live-people who did talk to me (i.e. Eli and Clare) couldn't hear my responses.

It didn't hurt that JT was a cool kid. He had an overall amiable disposition, and an ever-present smile. His eyes were warm and welcoming, and he was just about an inch taller than me.

A girl with a slight frame and a gypsy-type skirt opened the door, beaming at Clare.

"Welcome!" She greeted happily. "Are you Clare?" Clare nodded slightly, her blue eyes sparkling.

"And you're Jessica?"

"That's me. You can call me Jess if you want. Well, come on in!" Clare hesitantly followed Jess into the room, JT and I trailing close behind.

"Have a seat," Jess suggested, gesturing to a worn leather couch. "Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Orange juice? Moonshine?" Clare blinked, startled.

"Moonshine?" Jess smiled.

"Just seeing if you're paying attention."

"Heh, okay. But I'm good, thanks."

"All right. I just want to say thank you for contacting me. The more evidence, the better! You said you have a sound recording?"

"Yes," Clare answered, holding out a tiny little chip. "Do you have a micro-SD reader?" Jess nodded and unzipped her laptop case, producing a clunky black laptop and a rectangular chip reader. She stuck Clare's chip into the reader, and the reader into the laptop.

"It's under the audio folder," Clare said. "Titled, 'My Voice 007.'"

"Ah, here it is," Jess murmured, double clicking, and then turning up the volume as high as it would go.

First came Clare's voice, loud and clear: "If this is you, Julia, can you give me a sign?" I knew what was coming, and braced myself. JT cocked an eyebrow.

"Just wait," I told him, just as the room shook with Clare's recorded scream. JT laughed, and Jessica paused the recording.

"Why did you scream?" She asked, notebook in hand.

"The lights flickered on and off," Clare responded, embarrassed. Jess nodded and wrote that down.

"Has she done other things like that before this?" Clare shrugged.

"Earlier in the night I was at my boyfriend's, and the lights flickered, the water kept turning on, and then a song started playing from the other room."

"Okay, thank you." Jess pressed play, the last bits of Clare's scream fading out. The next thing you could hear was the door, as Eli came in.

"Was that the ghost?" Jess asked.

Clare shook her head, just as an earlier Clare asked, "Did you turn the lights off?"

All four in the room listened as the conversation between Clare and Eli wore on. When their conversation ended, Jessica paused the clip again.

"Do you believe that that's the reason she's haunting you?" She inquired. Clare shrugged again.

"It seemed reasonable enough. She hadn't gotten over Eli, and didn't want him to move on." I grit my teeth, annoyed at how selfish she pictured me as.

"That's _not_ why," I hissed.

"Why, then?" JT asked, startling me a bit, seeing as I wasn't used to people actually responding to my comments.

"I was just having fun!" He smiled.

"I do the same thing all the time." I grinned back, as Clare continued.

"But after all this, I can't be sure."

We listened to the rest of the recording, and Jess didn't pause it anymore. Finally, at the end, she stared at Clare for a long while.

"Did the ghost actually write to you?" Clare gulped.

"You're going to think I made this up, but…" She pulled the paper I'd written on out of her bag, and Jessica's eyes widened incredibly.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed. "This is amazing! This ghost must be incredibly powerful, being able to concentrate her energy like that! This is absolutely groundbreaking."

"If anybody will believe it," Clare scoffed.

"Everybody believes differently, we can't help that. But in my field, you go with your instinct, and mine tells me that you're definitely having interaction with a strong-willed ghost."

"Hear that?" I said to JT. "I'm _strong willed_." He grinned lopsidedly.

"Well would you be strongly willing to come to the movies with me? I bet I can get us in for free." I blinked, wondering how he'd magically spun the conversation around like that. As I processed what he'd said, a slow smile spread across my face.

"Of course," I answered. Who knew? Even ghosts can go on dates.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

**AN: I am so sorry about not updating, leaving you an AN chapter, and then not updating again. I just wasn't feeling it, and I didn't want to forge something and have it turn out like crap. You guys are awesome, and deserve the best I can do.(:**

-JT's POV-

Julian stared at me incredulously. We were sitting on the steps of the county hall, an especially deserted place on a Sunday like today. I usually let ghosts on their own when I think they're getting along okay, but Julian had grown on me.

"You have a date, with another ghost," he repeated again. I just grinned.

"Yep. I mean, it would be pretty weird to date a human, wouldn't it?"

"But you just met her!"

"So? If there's anything I've learned in the past few years, it's that when you're a ghost, you've got nothing to lose. There are no consequences left—after all, you've already suffered the worst consequence, right? So you can act however you want."

"So, you've really got no worries?" I thought of Liberty, but shook my head anyway.

"The only worry I've got is whether or not my hair looks tacky like this." I pointed to my hair, which I'd slicked back and attempted to part at the side. I couldn't cut it or grow it out, so it was the same length as it had been when I died. Julian smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, it actually does," he admitted. I scowled and ran my fingers through it, causing it to stick up on end.

"I'm wearing it like this," I declared, just as Julia popped up next to me.

"Hello," I greeted. She looked exactly the same as before, only she'd somehow sliced off the sleeves of her shirt.

"Hey," she responded.

"Julia, this is Julian. Julian, this is Julia." I smiled at their names, and they grinned at each other.

"Nice to meet you," Julia said genially.

"You too," Julian responded.

"All right, let's go," I said. "I'll talk to you later, Julian."

"Peace," he said, nodding, before he disappeared.

"So, I like your hair," Julia laughed.

"I thought I'd dress up for the occasion," I retorted, and we started walking toward the cinema. Yes, walking. What's wrong with trying to be at least a little bit human?

"Two please," I announced to the unaware guy at the ticket booth. We strode past him, past the concessions, and past those people who rip your ticket in half. "What should we see?" I asked Julia. She glanced up at the titles.

"How about _Ghost Town_?" She asked with a giggle. I laughed.

"Sounds great!" I said. _Ghost Town_, really? First, Hollywood goes around assuming they know everything about our kind, and then they give their movies the cheesiest titles they could think of. I mean, come on.

Nonetheless, it would be fun to make fun of the movie, and to see the look on people's faces. So, we followed a twenty-something couple into theatre 12 to see _Ghost Town_.

As it turns out, it wasn't a horror movie. In fact, it was more like a chick flick. Plus, it was surprisingly accurate. It was pretty much just life in the afterlife, starring Natalie Portman and Alex Pettyfer. The two main characters, who were ghosts, and all their friends went to all these places, like Italy and Ireland and China—things they couldn't do when they were alive for one reason or another.

I guess it was kind of cute, but a bit too girly for my taste. Especially when I was expecting a thriller. But there was one scene that I found pretty interesting. All the ghosts were sitting on the plane, chatting casually about how they died.

"I fell off a roof," some chubby lumberjack proclaimed. "It was kind of funny actually."

"Funny?" Natalie Portman's character, Rose, questioned. "Sounds tragic."

"Oh, no, Love. It was my time. I went up to dance on the roof in a rainstorm, slipped, and fell. The funny part was that I was dancing to 'I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight'. Ironic! So Ironic!" He collapsed in a fit of laughter while Rose and Alex Pettyfer's character, Lucas, shared a glance.

"Survival of the fittest," Lucas muttered. So within the scene, they discovered that three of them had been shot, one had been stabbed, two had overdosed on drugs (one intentionally), three had hard attacks, one was hit by a car, and the rest died of natural causes. And then there was Larry, who fell of his roof.

I thought about what it would be like if ghosts actually talked like that. I'd never really asked someone how they died—wouldn't that be a bit awkward? What if you didn't want to know the answer? Sometimes kids just told me how they ended up a ghost, I couldn't imagine bringing myself to _ask_.

After the movie I found myself walking through the streets with Julia, hand in hand. I mean literally, hand-_in_-hand. It's a ghost thing.

"I don't know," Julia said. "I felt like the movie sort of mocked lumber-jacks everywhere." I grinned.

"So what do you want to do now?"

"Terrorize the good people of Toronto?" I shrugged.

"Sounds like fun!" I glanced to my left, where somebody was writing with window paint on a store window. When I looked back to my right, Julia was gone.

"Heheheh," I heard her snicker. I spun back around to see her drawing the male reproductive system on the store window.

You know, when you die a teenager, you pretty much remain at the maturity level. Which is why the two of us burst out laughing just then, especially when the worker discovered her mural and ran running away, screaming.

If I were human, I would have been crying. I hadn't laughed that long since pre-death! I reached for the brush to write something else, but I couldn't lift it.

"How do you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?" I gestured to the window.

"That. I can't even pick up the brush!" She shrugged.

"I guess it's just a matter of concentrating your energy." I tried, real hard, but my fingers slipped right through the brush.

"How long have you been able to do that?" I wondered. Again, she shrugged, like it was no big deal.

"I never knew I time when I couldn't." A man in a goofy top hat walked by, and she hit the hat right off his head. After he picked it up and put it on again, I tried to take a whack at it, but it hardly wobbled.

"Maybe you're just really weak," Julia suggested, tying someone's shoes together as they talked on their cell phone.

"Or maybe you're just really strong," I countered.

"Ay, strong it be!" I spun around, looking for the speaker. Behind us was an old looking ghost; an elderly man, I presumed. I arched an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.

"I'm Obi," he said reaching out his hand. We shook hands in that awkward way that ghosts do. "Back in my human life, I studied ghosts like us. In my records, I had concluded that the average ghost cannot do much in respect to the human world. That would be you, young man." That was the first time since I died that someone had called me a young man.

"So what's she, a super-ghost?" I asked, jerking my thumb at Julia.

"It would appear so. Some ghosts are just naturally able to interact with humans. Now, dear, how did you die?" He directed the question at Julia. I laughed inwardly, remembering how I had just thought that ghosts never really talked like that, during the movie.

"I was hit by a car," she answered awkwardly.

"On purpose, though," Obi guessed. Julia and I looked at each other.

"Um…no. On accident." Obi shook his head.

"That's impossible. Look at your hands." Both Julia and I glanced at our hands. "Notice how they're tinted red?" Now that I thought about it, they were. From the wrist down, both of our hands had a slightly red hue. I'd never really noticed that before.

"Don't all ghosts have that?" I asked, trying to remember if Julian or Rick had red hands. Obi held up his pale white hands.

"Only the ones that were murdered." I glanced at Julia, who looked like the epitome of uncomfortable.

"Something must be wrong," she said quickly, putting her hands behind her back.

"Do you actually remember being hit by a car?" She nodded vigorously.

"Well yeah. I mean, I think. There are bits and pieces…It happened so fast. But that's my cause of death; I was there when coroner examined me."

"That may be so," Obi allowed. "But whoever hit you did it on purpose. Would anybody have a motive for killing you?" She shook her head.

"No. I didn't get killed and I don't want to talk about my death!" With that, she disappeared. I glanced at Obi.

"She was killed," he told me seriously. "And the worst part is that she's in denial."

-Julia's POV-

I was not murdered.

I don't care what anyone says, I was not murdered. Obi seemed like a smart guy, but he was wrong.

I was sitting on the top of Niagara Falls, watching the water rush past me. I stuck my hands under the water, even though I couldn't feel it—like maybe the red on my hands would wash away. But when I pulled them up, they were still stained that dreadful scarlet color.

Truth is, if I had been killed, my number one suspect would be Eli. I felt bad just thinking it, especially with the way he religiously visited my grave, and that's why I was sure my death was an accident.

I recalled the fight we'd had, every minute of it playing before me.

"_You mean, you don't like Cannibal Corpse?" Eli asked. I glanced briefly at the album in my hands that he'd given me. _

"_To tell you the truth, I think they're terrifying," I said honestly. "I'm all for gory and obscure, but did you look at their lyrics? They're morbid, gruesome, and satanic. I couldn't listen to one of their songs for a few seconds before wanting to vomit." There was a dangerous glint in Eli's eyes. _

"_After I went out and bought you that album?" _

"_I'm sorry, Eli, I'm entitled to my opinion, am I not?"_

"_Well you don't have to be so bitchy about it." I blinked. _

"_Bitchy? Are you serious? I tell you that I don't like to listen to a bunch of Satan-worshippers and you call me bitchy? Get a grip." He slammed his hands on the table. I knew Eli had a temper, but I hadn't seen the full force of it yet. _

"_Don't _you_ tell _me_ to get a grip!" He shouted. "I shower you in gifts and this is all you have to say to me? Get a freaking _grip_?"_

"_If in your mind, showering someone in gifts is getting them a morbid music album and freaking out when they don't like it, then yeah, that is all I have to say to you!" We were both standing now, shouting in each other's faces._

"_This isn't just about the album! This is about our _lives_ together!"_

"_What are we, getting married? Last time I checked, this _was_ just about the album!"_

"_I'd _never_ get married to a nasty little whore like you!" I glared; he'd crossed the line. I picked up my bag and threw the album in his face, all but sprinting to the door. _

"_Wait, Jules—"_

"_Have a nice life, Eli!" I spat back. _

"_Wait, I didn't mean that!" I opened the door and shut it with a vengeance. I was mounting my bike when the door opened again. I spared one last glance at Eli, the last I'd ever seen of him. _

"_I'm sorry!" He called. I shook my head and rode away. _

About ten minutes later, I was lying dead on the road. I still don't remember exactly how it happened, just had random snippets. Like, seeing the grill of the car—too late. My feet flying up into the air. Glass shattering. Blood.

But Eli was not there. He wasn't. I was dead by the time he saw me. We were in the hospital, I was brain dead. My new, ghost self watched as friends and relatives came and went, saying goodbye and crying.

Eli came, and he was in hysterics. He leaned over me and cried and cried, refusing to believe I was dead. I'd never seen him so sad.

He wouldn't act like that if he'd killed me. I was sure of it.

I looked out over the falls, at the children taking pictures with their disposable cameras, the Made of the Mist below…

I was absolutely sure. Nobody killed me…no matter what my hands said.

**AN: By the way, in case you didn't notice, I took the drama route. I'll try not to take soooo long with my next update!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

**AN: Hey guys, I'm sorry about not updating ALL SUMMER. For most of it, I just sort of forgot about the fic, and then I wasn't inspired, and then I was busy doing my AP World summer assignments. But I promised myself I'd give you an update before school (for me, at least) started. So, with three days to spare, here you are!**

-Rick's POV-

I don't know why I still hang out at the Dot. All it does is cause me anger and pain, and yet here I sit.

JT Yorke walked in and started toward me. I really wished he would just leave me alone—mostly because I envied him. I envied the fact that he could just live his afterlife without anger, without drama, without angst.

But something in his continuance as he advanced toward me seemed…not like his usual self.

"Hey Rick," he said, his voice sounding strained.

"Hi, JT," I responded. It seemed like he was finally feeling the harshness of the afterlife, and for that I felt something almost like respect towards him.

"Can I see your hands?" I wondered what he could want to see my hands for, but I held them up anyway. He looked for a second, and then back at his.

"What are you trying to do?" I asked. He sighed.

"Well, I just discovered that ghosts who were murdered have red hands," he confessed. I glanced at my scarlet hands, and realized that he was trying to see.

"So…is that all?" He nodded, thought a second, and shook his head.

"Actually, you're pretty observant, right?" I nodded curtly, starting to wish again that I was somewhere else. "Well, do you know Julia? She's been dead about a year now."

"I think I've seen her," I said quietly, recalling the dark haired girl that I had seen around occasionally. I remembered her strength, wishing I could somehow be as forceful as her some day.

"Well, she thinks she was hit by a car on accident, but she has red hands. What do you think?"

"Honestly, I really don't care. But I don't think a natural-causes ghost, or an accident ghost, could be as strong as her." He had on a melancholy expression, like I had confirmed his fears.

If JT didn't come off as happy all the time, I might feel sorry for him. I had seen has death, had seen all the loose ends he hadn't been able to tie. I regretted my death a lot, but I had seen it coming. I knew of the downward spiral I was falling into. JT was completely innocent, and at the time, I had felt something of pity towards him.

I saw how he bounced back, though, in all due time. Even in the afterlife he was easy-going and playful. Even in the afterlife he was something I could never be.

Now, though, I almost felt empathetic. He was acting sort of like how a ghost ought to, and I slightly commended him for that.

"Well, thanks," he said gloomily. I nodded curtly as he disappeared.

Suddenly, I was angry all over again. How pathetic were these people, when they somehow found drama in the _afterlife_? Why did ghosts have to talk to each other at all? Couldn't we all just mind our own business?

The only plus side to being dead is that you don't have to talk to anyone, get involved with anything. And yet here JT was, asking me if my hands were red, and what my opinion was. The _nerve_!

If even Degrassi afterlife was filled with drama, maybe we weren't safe anywhere.

-Julia's POV-

For two days straight, I followed Eli like a puppy. I managed to avoid JT, too—I wasn't in the mood for talking.

Around nine at night on the second day, Eli got in his hearse and headed to the Dot. He seemed complacent enough to me—wouldn't a murderer be on edge all the time? Nervous about riding in a hearse? It was all the more reason to believe him to be innocent.

We got to the Dot, where he was meeting his friend Adam. I followed him in, seeing the comic-book in his hand.

I walked into the restaurant and caught the eye of another ghost, who was sitting in the corner. He seemed to recognize me, though I had no idea who he was. He was sort of nerdy looking, with long hair and glasses, dressed in a suit that was all dirty.

"Get out!" He shouted to me.

"Excuse me?"

"Get out of here! Take your drama somewhere else!"

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm kind of busy here. Why don't _you_ move, Mr. Cranky?" He stood up and pointed his palms at me.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" He bellowed, sending a burst of energy at me, which sent me reeling. Somebody's coffee fell off a table nearby. The comic book opened up, the pages fluttering. It was like a gust of wind in doors.

Frankly, it pissed me off.

"YOU!" I shouted back, sending my own burst of energy.

Only, my burst was a little stronger.

A hamburger flew off its plate and into someone's face. Something big fell with a slam behind me. People's hats came off, and several plates crashed to the floor. I glanced at Eli, whose face was white.

"She's here," he murmured to himself. He looked terrified. Before Adam could ask him what was going on, he rushed out of the door.

"How did you do that?" The nerdy ghost asked. He was on his hands and knees, hardly able to stand.

"If you give me attitude next time I come here, I'll show you," I replied with a sneer, popping back to Eli.

He was out on the street, sprinting as fast as he could. There was sweat trickling down his face, and his jacket was flapping in the wind. I'd never seen him so terrified.

"I didn't mean to!" He cried. "Get away from me, Julia!" I paused, watching as he kept running forward, until he was out of my sight.

'I didn't mean to?'

I blinked a few times, replaying the scene in my head. His terrified eyes, his panic. How come he'd never acted like this in the past? How come he always seemed to keep his cool when I was around? Like at the graveyard, or when Clare was over, or in his car.

Never, before this, had he given me reason to believe he'd killed me.

-JT's POV-

"Check this out," Jess said to Clare and Toby eagerly. They were having a session today to go over the evidence that they'd already collected, so my presence wasn't necessary, but I needed something to get my mind off of Julia.

Jessica clicked a button on her laptop, and there was a burst of static, followed by a scream that sounded like it was underwater.

"What is that?" Toby asked, covering his ears.

"That was Clare. I analyzed her tape, and you're going to want to hear this," Jess replied as the tape continued. As soon as the scream concluded, there was another voice, a voice that wasn't Clare's. It sounded gurgly, and had a strange sort of echo, but after Julia stopped the tape and replayed it slower, you could make out two distinct words:

"Be quiet." I knew already that it was Julia, and Clare realized this with a shocked expression, but Toby looked dumbfounded.

"That was Julia," Jessica told him, practically emanating excitement. She played the next part of the tape. I listened as Clare and Eli bickered, seemingly in the background. Clare blushed. Suddenly, though, Julia's voice came back. Jess replayed it slower again, and a few words could be made out.

"No!...wrong…want….together." Clare's face got even whiter.

"She was talking to me…and I didn't even realize it," she said softly.

"Obviously you didn't realize it," I muttered as Jessica continued the tape.

The next time Julia was audible was when she said something like "I'm not scary". Clare cracked a weak smile, explaining to Jessica that she was almost hysterical at that point.

Julia didn't seem to say anything for the rest of the tape, until right at the end, when Clare declares that she is crazy, and Julia replies with the most easily distinguished words of the tape: "I'm real!"

Jessica smiled a huge smile. "That's my favorite part," she gushed. I've listened to it over and over again. 'I'm real'. It's just so…angsty, almost. Like, even though there isn't much expression in the tape, I can feel her emotions in those two words. She's a real person, with a real soul, you know?" Clare nodded, still shaken, and Toby just stared at the computer.

I thought about Julia's predicament as I gazed at Clare. If Eli really did murder her, wasn't Clare now in danger? Shouldn't we find a way to warn her?

"Let's look at JT's tape now," Jessica suggested, referring to the tape from when they did all the experiments with me. She had video footage for this one.

I wondered what would show up on there, if anything, but I felt a nagging urge to go find Julia, to express my concern about Clare. Only, where would I find her?

I floated down the stairs, into the North Building lounge, and something on TV caught my eye. It showed video footage of the Dot, and there was wind blowing everything around.

Except that no doors or windows were opened.

I noticed Eli on the TV, and saw him bolt out of the restaurant. That's when the wind stopped.

I had a feeling I knew where Julia would be.

**AN: I probably wouldn't have even remembered this fic if it wasn't for the few reviews I've gotten just recently, so thank you very much. By the way, how about that season finale last night?**


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